


Garnet and Gold

by Asras_wife



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Friendship, Other, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 06:57:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20810954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asras_wife/pseuds/Asras_wife
Summary: The magician's apprentice meets the Countess's apothecary.The burden of their secrets becomes a little lighter in each other's presence.





	Garnet and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> I made this as part of a fic/art exchange with https://izzycle.tumblr.com/
> 
> Their apprentice Dion is adorable and deserves all the love.

Salina could feel the tension in Dion’s room permeate even through the thick stone walls of the palace. 

“He won’t come out. Milady’s expecting him. I didn’t know what else to do.” Portia shrugged.

“It’s alright, I’ll help if I can. Does Nadia- ...ahem. Does the Countess have any other appointments today?” Salina inquired.

“A few, I think.”

Salina placed her hand on the cool marble of the door. “Move them up if you can. This may take some time. And make sure she eats breakfast. Please.”

Portia nodded and strode down the hallway, leaving Salina alone in front of the door. _ Focus on your breathing. Calm yourself, and give your peace to others _. She placed her other hand on the gilded door handle, releasing peaceful energy into the room. 

“The Countess and Portia are worried about you.” She announced, unsure if the person on the other side was listening. “You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to. But I need to make sure you’re safe. I’m going to open the door. If you don’t want me to come in, I need you to talk to me and tell me.” She waited a few seconds, then slowly pushed the door open. 

She scanned the room. The bed was empty, a down blanket hastily tossed over the mattress. The windows were closed. A half-eaten pastry sat on the side table. Her eyes settled in the corner of the room, a few feet from a monstrous baroque mirror. There he was, sitting in the corner with a silky sheet wrapped around his shoulders. Dion’s forehead rested on his knees, curls falling over the tailored pants that Nadia had expertly selected. 

“My name is Salina. I work here in the palace. I’m going to sit right here next to you, is that okay?” she was almost thankful that he didn’t look up before nodding. Salina knew she could be an intimidating figure at times, and this was the exact wrong moment to be intimidating. She slid down the wall next to him.

"I'm Dion. Sorry for...this." When he finally looked up at Salina, a flash of recognition passed on his face. "Hey. I know you."

_ Damn it. _ She thought. _ Asra told me he lost all his memories, like Nadia did. This is going to be hard to explain. _

"You're the woman from the market."

_ Oh, thank the stars. _A strained laugh slipped through her calm facade. "Yes, we did meet once before, didn't we?"

“How do you know Asra?” Dion asked, rolling the hem of his shirtsleeve between his fingers. It was a nervous gesture, Salina knew. 

“We were friends once,” she started. Dion’s expression fell and she felt the smallest twinge of jealousy flicker through his aura. “Colleagues.” Salina corrected. “Magic is a fairly niche profession, and we lived in the same city for years. We were bound to cross paths sooner or later."

_ You and I were friends, too. _ She thought. 

Dion nodded slowly, deep in thought. His energy was exponentially calmer than when Salina entered the room. Now might be a good time to broach the subject.

"So, what is this I hear about not leaving your room?" She asked cautiously.

"It's stupid." Dion focused his gaze on the brightly colored rug beneath him.

"It matters enough to keep you in here."

Dion sighed and lowered the sheet. His shirt was a deep V-necked style, with intricate stitching on the neck and chest. The design framed two golden scars, horizontal on Dion's chest. 

"They're ugly." Dion mumbled.

"They're luminous." Salina retorted. "And they're _ you_."

Salina felt Dion's blush in his energy before she saw it on his face. He wasn't used to anyone talking about him like that, let alone someone he just met. And the strangest part was that he believed her, just a little. Maybe they _ were _ luminous. Maybe _ he _was luminous. 

"But what if…" he echoed the small, cruel voice in the back of his head. "What if the Countess...thinks they're ugly?"

"She won't. Nadi- The Countess is not offended by scars in the slightest. I can promise you that."

Dion pursed his lips, unconvinced.

Salina hesitated for a moment, then pulled a large red amulet from under her scarf. She unclasped the chain at the back of her neck and held it towards him. "You know what this is." She reassured him, dropping the necklace in his hand.

The teardrop shaped stone nestled neatly in his palm. It was a deep red, connected to the chain by delicate silver flowers that wound around the outside of the stone. He did know. 

"It's a garnet."

"And you know what the old witch's tale is, then?"

"...A promise spoken over a garnet is said to never be broken."

_ And if the promise breaks, so does the stone. _

Salina felt the itch of broken promises in the hollow of her throat. She took Dion's hand and placed her palm over his, the necklace sandwiched between their hands.

"I promise you, Nadia will not think you or your scars are ugly."

She flipped Dion's hand over hers, depositing the stone in her own hand. Her expression went blank for an instant, and then she chuckled to herself. 

"How are you so sure?" He asked. 

"It's so easy to give advice, and so hard to take it. It looks like I've ignored my own lessons." 

"Salina?" He asked. She wasn't making sense.

The woman removed a lion-headed brooch on her left shoulder and unwound the shawl that had been covering her chest and neck. 

Dark red jewels the color of the stone in her hand spattered over her neck and collarbone, seemingly stuck to her skin.

"She won't hate your scars, because she doesn't hate mine." Sheepish was a rare expression for Salina. She decided it was far from her favorite emotion.

"Does it hurt?" Asked Dion. 

"Not any more than yours do." Salina leaned her head back on the cool marble of the wall. "We've decided that we're plain people, Dion. Easily ignored, not much to look at. We cover our scars. Dim our lights. But the universe tells us something different. It says "Look at him. See how he shines? See the warm gold of his soul seeping through his skin?" Well I see you. And you held a mirror to me so I could see myself too."

Dion's blush returned with vigor. "I-I didn't do anything." 

Salina practically jumped up from her seat on the floor. He hadn't realized how tall she was until now. She held out her hand to Dion. 

"We'll go see the Countess together. I won't cover my scars if you don't cover yours."

Dion wasn't sure what came over him when he touched her hand. A wave of confidence, perhaps. They strode down the hallway together to find Portia, who told them the Countess had just sat down for tea. 

The room was silent as they entered, save for the clink of Nadia dropping her spoon in surprise. 

"My… I knew that color would look wonderful on you, Dion. And you seem to have convinced my apothecary that she'll overheat, always wearing scarves in a Vesuvian summer." Now it was Dion's turn to watch Salina blush. He pulled out his chair and sat, not entirely comfortable, but feeling better than before. More _ himself _, somehow. 

Salina stood next to his chair and leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Thank you." She said, and kissed him gently on the temple.


End file.
